La Vie En Rose
by empatheticsympatheticpathetic
Summary: Eyes that gaze into mine, A smile that is lost on his lips— That is the unretouched portrait Of the man to whom I belong.
1. Chapter 1

La Vie En Rose

Scarlet closed her eyes. She can feel her pulse thrumming in her veins to a slow steady rhythm. From jumping off the ledge and nearly slipping off the train, to having Wolf in such a close proximity being pressed on top of her –like a paperweight to keep her from fleeing off the train's roof, was more than enough to have her nerves on the edge. But the spike of adrenaline was short lived and it is now waning off her system leaving this odd buzz in her head.

The maglev tracks were humming beneath the floor of the train. As the scenery moved fast outside, she can hear the wind whipping and lapping on the nearby trees. She had her back on the train's wall surrounded with all the crates Wolf had put aside to free some space. She can hear the click of Wolf's heel on the floorboards pacing back and forth, unable to diffuse that bundled up frenetic energy. And then he stopped. She can sense that he was looking at her with those shrewd and calculating eyes of his. And then slowly, as if he was sizing her up, he took cautious light steps toward her.

He placed himself beside her both their arms brushing against each other. He shuffled his weight from one hip to the other looking for a comfortable spot -and failing, she guessed, since there were still a lot of unnecessary movements to keep him from being still.

She exhaled from her mouth letting all her unused energy dissipate. The buzz in her head continued, making her woozy and almost sleepy. The hum of the maglev tracks didn't seem that it's going to stop any time soon. And in the back of her head, that strange hum of tracks turned into something else. A memory five years back.

The voice of her grand-mère, singing.

_Des yeux qui font baisser les miens__  
__Unrire qui se perdsursa bouche__  
__Voilà le portrait sans retouche__  
__De l'hommeauquelj'appartiens_

She was on the porch's steps, her chubby chin resting on both the palm of her hands. She was watching the chickens pecking on the gravel. Her grandmother was near the table on the porch arranging flowers on a vase.

Scarlet looked to the direction of her grandmother, tired from all the farmlands she could see.

"Grand-mère?" said Scarlet.

"Yes, darling?" Her grandmother didn't look up busy in arranging leaves at the lip of the vase.

"I'm bored. Is there something else I can do?" Scarlet whined and immediately she regretted what she said. She didn't want to be send doing chores.

This time her grand-mère looked up. She smiled sweetly to Scarlet, her eyes crinkling, little crow's feet forming on the edges of her eyes. "Come," She patted the seat next to the table.

Scarlet jumped on her feet. She ran the short distance between her and her grand-mère, her short red hair whipping wildly against her ears. She tackled her grandmother softly on her waist and her grand-mère wrapped both of her arms around her and seated her on her lap.

"Scarlet, don't run like that. It's very unlady-like." Her grand-mère smoothed the tresses on her head.

Scarlet pouted and looked away to the vase on the center of the table. It was already finished, the bundle of flowers neatly arranged on top of the other. Her grandmother was always like that, delicate on things but she puts weight on the really important parts.

"Grand-mère, what was that song you were singing?" asked Scarlet picking up a fallen rose petal fiddling with it on her little fingers.

Her grand-mère tightened her hug around her. "It's a song from a memory long time ago," her grandmother whispered as if telling her a secret. "Do you want your grand-mère to tell you a story?" She kissed Scarlet's forehead.

Scarlet brightened up, suddenly excited. She nodded briskly.

"Well," her grand-mère began, "back when I was young, I met a man." Her grandmother's eyes crinkled again, shining, like all the youth never left her eyes.

She proceeded on caressing Scarlet's hair and Scarlet nuzzled warmly on her grand-mère's chest, the perfect combination of soft and firm made by years' worth of gardening. Scarlet listened intently suddenly aware that her grand-mère's voice was more amplified coming from inside her chest.

"It was a long time ago… Ages," she looked down at Scarlet. "He asked me out for dinner all of a sudden. And I have to wonder because we rarely talked. We passed each other in the halls, we were practically strangers. But there we were that night, sitting in front of each other trying to talk.

There was a laugh hidden somewhere in her grand-mère's words. It's almost imperceptible but Scarlet could feel it. And to feel what her grand-mère feel, it's comforting, fuzzy and warm, all kinds of good things.

"He was a man with few words to say. He only talked when it was important and needed. He was serious. But unlike people of his kind, he has a kind heart. He wouldn't show it straightforward but he was the kind of person who would willingly help others when they are in need.

Scarlet thought about the person her grand-mère was telling. A silhouette of a man formed in her mind, she randomly thought of features he could have but couldn't quite put it together. She saw a lock of her ruby red hair her grand-mère was absently twirling. And she thought that maybe this man could have red hair like hers. That idea fits in well and she settled to that.

"The first time he asked me out it was awkward. We didn't have the slightest idea what each other was like. Our sentences were jumbled, we couldn't concentrate on the food in front of us, -everything was a mess, it was all out of place. I accidentally spilled wine on the suit he was wearing!" Her grandmother covered her eyes, massaging her temples trying to shake off the embarrassment that suddenly resurfaced from her. "I tried fixing it. I dabbed my handkerchief on the stain but he swatted my hand away. I thought he was mad, I was pretty sure he was mad. So I stood up from the table and I told him, 'You shouldn't have asked me out.' I saw his eyes narrowed. He was still seated on his chair, he wasn't making any move to stand up. He angled his chin to me, he looked haughty. I began to seethe internally, I couldn't make out what he wanted from me asking me out for dinner. Am I some form of amusement to him? I looked at the glass of wine I accidentally spilled on him, there's still some left and in the back of my mind I was half way splashing it across his face. Then I heard him snicker.

"It was a lighthearted one. He didn't expect he would laugh. Both of us didn't expect that he would laugh, nothing was laughable as of the moment. I was mad at him now, so looked squarely into his eyes, 'I am leaving,' I announced. I didn't care if people at the other table heard what I said. Then I stormed out.

"He was quick to his feet. I heard the feet of his chair scratching the tiled floor. Panicked steps ran after me. And I didn't care, I wasn't going to let him make a fool out of me. He grabbed my wrist. Some of the people nearby were watching our little spectacle now. I resisted his hold. I looked up at him, his face was calm. I couldn't read what was going on in his mind and that made me even more furious. I wrestled away from his grip but he held tighter. Then he smiled at me, it was placid, it managed to diffuse the attention of the onlookers. It managed a blush to creep up my cheeks. For the life of me, I didn't know why that happened.

"'We are leaving,' he said to me. He stuffed his hand in his pocket and threw a few paper bills on the table. 'I never really liked this place anyway,' he said and he pulled me out towards the door.

"When we were outside, he led the way and I tagged along behind him. I was unsure what to do. I thought about running off silently without him noticing but it didn't seem right. We walked past an avenue of antique shops while I was watching his back, his arm was still stretch back to me pulling me along. Then the words just came right out as I thought of them. 'Why'd you asked me out for dinner?' When I didn't get any answer I sped up so that I could walk in step with him. He couldn't look me in the eyes. I was frustrated, he was really hard to figure out.

"'I…,' he mumbled. 'You…?' I pressed. Then I noticed he was looking at something from across the street. We had stopped walking. I swiveled and found an antique shop its glass front was illuminated in cream colored light displaying various collectibles native of Luna and some I recognize was from Earth, I swiveled back to him. At least this time his eyes wasn't darting from one place to the other just to avoid looking at me, so that's a development of the date. 'You plan to take me here all along?' I finally said to him. He smiled guiltily and he caught my eyes. 'I'm a man who plans things, so naturally I want things to be done right as it should be. But since the dinner didn't go well, this part of the date was rather pushed up early in the schedule.'

"My eyebrow rose. 'Ha! You call this a date?' I yelled at him incredulously. He didn't reply he simply lifted his hand and opened it, waiting for mine to place it on top. When I didn't comply, he told me, 'You don't want me to drag you again across the street right?'

"I was suspicious at first but my curiosity got the better of me. I placed my hand on his and felt his fingers closing in on it. As we walked toward the antique shop, I noticed that his hand was rough and callused the kind that endured years of writing too much. But he held my held my hand gently, it seemed lighter inside his, like a radiant warmth was emanating from the inside. For the first time that night I thought about who he is. And I finally admitted to myself that I willingly and wanted to come with him.

"The antique shop was larger than I thought it was on the inside. The shelves were lined with fist-sized gemstones that were excavated underground Luna when it was founded centuries ago, paintings, sculptures and busts littered every corner and almost all the available space on the floor. A sword was hanging on the wall beside a huge framed blueprint of the very first hover craft, lanterns and chandeliers were hanging above the rafters of the ceiling. I wandered off on the side of the shop where this enormous tapestry was covering an entire wall. It was bright and glittery all over the place but I couldn't help but be mesmerized by it. It was woven by the same material that was only naturally occurring in Luna. The luster on every thread was blinding it was almost too painful for the eyes to see the whole picture. Minutes must have passed as I gawk at the tapestry. I was started when he tapped me on the shoulder. I blinked a few time refocusing on him. He gestured his head toward the backend of the shop and I followed him.

"He opened a door at the back and there was another room. It was larger than the front of the shop, the air was stuffy and the lights were dim. It housed more antique collections, but these came from a much earlier era. Everything was covered with a thin layer of dust. I looked around and saw crown jewels and scepter encased in glass. Chalices, ornamental tea sets and porcelain china, stacked on top of each other. Ban books are stockpiled from the floor climbing to the wall along the shelves all the way up the ceiling, religious scriptures and scrolls are cramped on one table. A gigantic statue was lying on its back spanning the whole length of the room. My hands went to cover my mouth, I gasped. The Statue of David, a crack was running along on its side and the hand that was holding his slingshot was missing, bits of its shoulder was blown with it but aside from that it was in marvelous condition.

"'Aren't all these things contraband? These are from the early decades of the Second Era and some of these are spoils from the Fourth War. How did these get in here? Isn't this illegal?' I turned and asked him. 'Yes. Yes. Yes. How did these get in here? Through a spaceship and hover to answer your very simple question. Are these illegal?' He gave himself time to think, 'A definite, yes.'

"'So what now?' I suddenly felt constricted being surrounded by illegal goods. 'Ah, that brings me. What are these?' he pointed at a row of barrels on the floor. 'Those are wine barrels,' I replied at him. 'Wine barrels?' He digested the idea, "What do wine needed barrels for?' He questioned me like a fish out of water.

"I sighed and explained it to him. 'Well, back then when wines did not yet come from pressurized cans they made it in here,' I pointed the barrel at him. He made this expression on thinking. I can see the cogs moving in his head. 'It helps with the fermenting process. It tastes better.' I added.

"A spark of recognition crossed his face. 'Ah, because you're from France, that's why you know so much about wine. What do they call you then… a connoisseur?'

"When he said that that put the suspicion right back in my mind. 'How did you know I was from France?' I asked him. 'Um, I looked at your bio,' he said to me in a rather innocent and matter-of-fact tone.

"'Well, I'm from France but I'm not on the regions where the chateaus are. I'm from Rieux.' I pointed it out to him. 'They said all the parts of France have a trademark product. What do people in Rieux have?' He asked.

"'Um… Farm produce.' I didn't know what to say to him. It was very anti-climactic, I think his excitement deflated. Then he neared on a table. 'Might I ask what this contraption, er… machinery is for?' He gestured, his arms flailing compensating for the lack of a better word. 'It's some sort of a musical instrument, right? It's a trumpet! Is it?' He looked at me expectant. I looked at the object on the table. It was a square box with a bell attached to it flaring on one end. 'It's a phonograph.'

"'A what?' He exclaimed. 'It plays music,' I replied to him, 'It's from the early decades of the Second Era.' I saw a couple of vinyl records beside it. I pulled one at random. I patted away the dust and placed it on top of the player. I cranked the lever beside it and put the needle on the disk. A scratchy music began to fill the dusty air.

"_Des yeux qui font baisser les miens__/__Un rire qui se perdsursa bouche__/__Voilà le portrait sans retouche__/__De l'hommeauquelj'appartiens_

"'How on Luna…' He was astonished. I supposed anyone would be surprised hearing music coming from a box. It must've looked like magic to him. He scrunched his hair messing its perfectly comb strands. He was wearing this boyish smile coupled with a surprised expression upon seeing that such a thing exist. He paced to and fro the table debating on something. He hesitated at first but he lifted his hand, the same hand that he offered back on the street.

"I eyed at the hand, my mind was blank, the hand looked alien to me. A look of dejection was slowly forming on his face. He offered the hand again, shaking it as if the action that would follow was as easy as common sense.

"Then I got it. My mind snapped. I felt like the wind was knocked off of me when I realized what he was trying to ask. I raised my head and laughed. I didn't mean to laugh at his attempts but that was the last thing I thought he would do in that place.

"I still acquiesced. He pulled me and placed his other hand on my waist. I was laughing internally. 'Really?' I mocked on him lightly. He twirled me, the trotting of his feet was in perfect sync. 'Isn't this what Earthens do on their dates?' His smile was lopsided, I hated the fact that I willingly put some of the confidence in there. So I smirked at him equally not letting him defeat me, 'I thought we were past that when I decided to walk out on you at the restaurant.' He barked a laugh, 'Touché.'

"I know I was consciously flirting with him. But I didn't want to admit it openly. Instead, I closed my eyes and focused on the music."

Michelle looked down to her granddaughter.

"He made me remember about home, Scarlet."

Scarlet's cheeks were puffed and a small smile was on her lips. "Who is he grand-mère? Who was that man?"

She nuzzled Scarlet and pressed her below her chin smoothing her red locks again. The question was lost. Instead, she thought about her grand-mère as this new person, who she was before.

Her grandmother's gaze was faraway, pass the clouds and the entire sky to a single distant point in space.

Scarlet looked back at arm's length from her. And she tried to etch the vast cornfield in her memory, their sunny porch on that midday and her grand-mère on her gardening smock, the edges of the jumper pants stained with earth. And she tried so hard to imagine her grandmother living in this peaceful place throughout her life.

TBC

Author's Note:

Um, hullo. I'm new in here, —I mean, in the TLC fandom. You still call it like that, right? Ugh, I haven't been in fanfiction for years now. But here I am. Tadaaa! But before you go, I would just like to point out two things: 1. Is that on the TLC series I have only read Cinder and Scarlet so far (so if you're going to comment/review. Please. And this is heavily implied. NO SPOILERS! On Cress or the other side stories); and 2. Is that I haven't written in a while so yes, forgive my grammar errors, and any other errors aside grammatical ones, I'm still picking up my bearings (if I have any bearings to pick. Haha).

So, bye for now. I'll see you on the next chapter. Don't forget to leave a review. I NEEEEed it! Thanks!

I almost forgot. The inspiration of this fic came from the song La Vie En Rose. Here's the link for that song:

www. youtube watch?v=3Ba_WoSZXvw

It's a cover. The original is in French by Edith Piaf

-esp :D


	2. Chapter 2

Michelle was old, ancient for some. When she thought about it she had a good life. Five decades of wonderful and fulfilling life. She will devote her remaining strength for her dearest granddaughter and her estranged son. And by all means, she will protect them from secrets and entanglements that she became part of.

She watched Scarlet from the kitchen window prancing around the stony gravel scattering chicken feed. Scarlet was humming softly. She can hear her faint airy breaths as she swung around the now empty bucket.

She turned towards the pictures on the counter seeing both of her and Scarlet's face grinning to the camera, they were inside the greenhouse with rows of freshly tilled soil on the background, the picture faded replacing one with Scarlet wearing her school uniform, that was her first day at the local elementary school. Next was a picture of her on her early twenties, she was wearing that signature blue uniform of the military Air Force. This picture was special, she was standing in front of the spaceship she piloted during the very first diplomatic mission on Luna. She remembered that day. She didn't have the heart to delete the picture because of the person who took it.

X

"Alright 1… 2…" Click.

She flinched on the flash of the camera. "Hey you didn't even count until-" Click. "…three."

Logan held the polaroid in front of his face squinting through the eyepiece. He was enjoying Michelle's rant.

"Stop that," she fidgeted with her braided locks trying to keep it on one side of her shoulderdespite of the wind. The wind on the landing pad today was uncooperative. But ever since she told Logan that she was a pilot it piqued his curiosity and was incessant on making her show him the spaceship she piloted.

Click.

She grunted. She walked towards him grabbing the camera's lens snatching it off his hold. She glared at him through her brown eyes. He smiled dorkily at her holding up two fingers.

"Alright, alright, I won't fool around this time." Michelle gave the camera back.

Logan positioned the camera in front of his face. He focused his silvery-onyx eye on the eyepiece the other squinting shut.

Michelle held her stance and smiled, waited for the flash to happen.

Click.

Logan pulled the photo out of the camera and fanned it to dry.

Michelle noted that Logan was wearing long sleeves today with the cuff pushed up just below his elbows. She looked at his satchel placed on the ground and noticed that a white coat was draped over it.

"So since you already know what I do for a living why don't you show me yours?"

"Hn, let me check," he put one finger on his chin pretending to think. "Is it already 'bring your lady to work' day again?"

She smacked him on the side of his shoulder.

"Alright, alright," he raised both of his hands in mock surrender. "Why don't you come by around this time tomorrow? I'll show you around."

X

That afternoon Michelle rode a hover to the Department of Research of Luna. She'd thought about surprising Logan. The look on his face would worth a million univs when he sees her in front of his door.

The building glared blindingly bright against the sun. The exterior was made of transparent glass reinforced with a weaving of steel and bolts. Inside tall columns of steels rose from the floor to the roof. Everything was illuminated without any use of artificial light.

Silver wall panels divided the space into offices. But nevertheless, the lobby was immensely spacious. It wasn't decorated with gaudy ornaments just like departmental buildings back on Earth do. Everything was made for form and function. It was an architectural masterpiece. Even the tiled floor was spotless, few people are walking around carrying suitcases and portfolios. There wasn't any scoff mark on sight. Self-cleaning tiled floor was maybe the new craze on Luna right now.

She looked at her portscreen for the direction Logan commed to her. She passed a corridor where a woman was wearing a business uniform. She wanted to ask her for the way but she seemed snobbish. Turning a corner she finally saw Logan's subdepartment.

There plastered on the wall in bold aluminum plated lettering was L.S.O.P. A-1. Her eyes settled down the meaning of the acronym.

"Lunar Studies on Organobiology and Physioelectricity."She quirked her eyebrows.

A man in white coat stepping out the sliding door confirmed her doubts. She tilted her head farther and saw two more labs adjacent to this one.

When she stepped inside L.S.O.P. A-1 the change in the surroundings was immediate. The floor became whitewashed, the smell of antiseptic was prickling in her nose. She saw a man. He was around the same age as she was, maybe younger, with the top of his hair graying rather prematurely. He was looking over a holographic clipboard through his glasses.

"Excuse me?" Michelle called for his attention.

His eyes darted to her at once. He had these bright blue eyes, the color of the sea on a cloudless day. "Yes, how may I help you?" He said gently.

"I'm looking for Logan Tanner. Can you point me to his office?"

A look of recognition flitted his face. "Of course." He outstretched his hand down the hall.

He knocked on a door labeled Lab-4 and opened it without waiting for any response from the inside.

Logan Tanner was hunched peering over a microscope, his hand was turning a knob on its side, the other furiously writing on a pad.

"Any updates on Project Eclipse, Dmitri?" He scribbled faster, multitasking. He didn't even bother looking up. He was swamped with work. It came very clear that he was a very busy man.

The man beside her kept his mouth mum. He stuffed his hands in his coat pockets. Both of them waited for the silence to sink in.

The time passed and Michelle folded her hands patiently in front of her. Finally, he noticed that something was amiss and abruptly stopped in the middle of his writing.

He straightened in a perfect stance. He squared his shoulders and acknowledged his two visitors.

"Michelle!" He exclaimed containing his surprise, just barely.

The man he called Dmitri stepped towards him. They began talking in hushed voices, Logan looking over Michelle every now and then.

"I'm missing a very important part of the vaccine. The serum is incompatible with the host's immunoglobulins I need to test it on something, not someone!" Dmitri clarified.

"I'm afraid that is for our King to decide. Send him a comm to stop drafting in test subjects?" Logan joked.

Dmitri cracked. "At least Garan is doing excellent on the Lunar lock, he just commed me from Earth about his recent developments." He withdrew slightly and gestured his head towards Michelle. "By the way I didn't know that you have a thing for French Earthens. She's pretty just like you said she is."

That last one Michelle can hear. She fought a blush creeping on her cheeks and sighing inconveniently from failing to do so.

"Michelle, Dr. Dmitri Erland, one of the promising junior scientists in Luna." Logan introduced."Dmitri, Captain Michelle Benoit, First Class European Military Air Force Pilot."

"Pleased to finally have met the woman Logan constantly talked about," said Dmitri shaking Michelle's hand.

"Really?" Michelle glanced over Dmitri's shoulder to a guilty looking Logan. "Pleased to meet you too, Doctor."

"Dmitri will just do, Captain." He said gently. "Well, I'll leave you two alone to talk," he said walking to the doorway before Michelle could say something. "Say, how do you say that in French now? Oru-vwa, Madmosell Benoit."

Michelle chuckled. "Au revoir, Monsieur Dmitri."

"So that's how you pronounced it." Dmitri waved his hand as the door slid close.

After a moment of standing there, Logan pulled a chair for Michelle and cleared the jumble of stuffs that cluttered his work table. "Don't mind the lab equipment, I hope." He pleaded his eyes to Michelle.

"No, I don't mind. Is this a bad time? You're rather busy." Michelle took a seat and surveyed the whole room.

There was a large screen built in the wall, it was pitched black as of the moment. There was a shelf on the opposite wall housing cylinders and test tubes containing different colored chemicals. Beside it was another table with a machine that has gauges and connectors sticking out on it. The inside of the room suddenly felt stifling to her.

"No not at all." Logan took a seat on the edge of the table reaching for the other side closing his notebook. "Although, I didn't expect you to be here up until tomorrow. But since you're already here, this is what I do." He outstretched both of his arms and Michelle's eyes were forced to roam around the room again.

"What exactly do you do in this room?"

"Lab works, in general." He placed his hand near hers to ease up her hand looked ghostly pale under the droplight on the table.

"Well, that's obvious. But I noticed that there were more sections like this on my way."

"There are three sections actually, LSOP A, B and –"

"C?" Michelle supplemented.

He shook his head. "O," he said as if it was the most obvious of things.

"A, B, O? Like blood types?" she said her curiosity picking up.

"No. You should know this." He grabbed his pen and flipped his notebook. The leaves of the pages were dog-eared and worn and some of the indentations of his writings were hardly embossed on the blank pages. He drew three symbols, his hand gracefully curving every time he lifted the pen.

The recognition hit her as soon as he showed her. "Alpha, Beta and Omega. They're Greek letters. Why was it named like that?"

"King's orders," Logan shrugged. "There are a lot of us working under this department. Recently a huge chunk of the government's budget has been allocated to and more doctors have been instated each specializing under their own expertise. Like Dr. Erland under Communicable Disease and me on Genetic Research."

"Genetic Research?" Michelle's heart thundered inside her chest. She phrased her next words carefully, "What do Genetic Researchers do?"

Logan'seyes narrowed, he looked over her through his nose. "If I tell you I have to kill you."

Michelle's body went numb.

But his intimidation dissipated into laughter. He reached for her braided hair and played with it.

She was relieved.

"Well, to answer your question," Logan continued. "I'm the lead research on Luna's Genetic Modification."

Michelle's smile froze on her lips. Her eyes were caught in surprise. She parted her lips to inhale but her lungs wouldn't expand. She'd done well on concealing it though.

Logan explained his job description. He was talking animatedly, he was proud of his work. It's such a shame because she was revolted by it. All she could hear was his muffled voice and the ringing on her ears.

"It's every early in its time. But I'm making progress, well, me and the team of course. It could lead to a lot of discoveries. Like, why shells don't emit their own bioelectricity and maybe we could find the gene defect that's causing it and possibly find a cure." Logan sighed, giddy on all of his prospects.

Michelle nodded and pretended to be excited as he is. A moment of panic crossed her eyes. She needed to get out of this room, away from him. She looked for an excuse, reaching inside her pockets she took out her comm.

"My colleagues needed me at the ship. Right away," she convinced herself of her lie. "They're running a simulation on the engine thrusters. I am needed at the bridge."

Logan was cut off in the middle of discussing chromosomal rearrangement. He was like an eager child deprived of attention from his parents and by so willing to show any of his achievements to anybody. He conceded with Michelle though. He kissed her on the cheek when she moved to stand up.

Michelle can feel his child-like smile on her skin. She shrank internally and tore herself away. When she pulled back she can see his innocent, silvery eyes expectant, waiting for her to return the gesture. Truthfully, she tried to connect this man to the one who asked her for a dance few days back. She saw glimpses of it but she reeled back.

His shoulders sagged down. "Do you want me to walk you down on the hover line?"

"It's alright, I can manage on my own."

She gave her a curt goodbye before the door slid close. She half ran and half walked her way out of the building.

X

She collapsed on the door, closing it in the process. Her back slid down against it until she was seated on the floor. Her knees felt like jelly, they lay sprawled in front of her. She took slow deep breaths shaking of her erratic nerves.

One thing is sure,she must not associate herself with these kinds of people.

She curled into a ball resting her forehead on her knees. How could she be careless? How can she let her guard down?

Of course he's Lunar. That is the blaring truth. She turned a blind eye on that fact, threw all of her cautions into the wind. And for what reason?Because of a petty crush?

For all she knew, he could be using his glamour on her. She groped the sides of her body and her head. Will people know the difference if Lunars are messing up with their mental faculties?

All of the events of the past few days with him dawned on her. She felt nothing different. Was she that easy to control? Is she that gullible under his glamour?

She felt stupid, violated and used. He must be sneering at her while he was controlling her like his little puppet. He had made her a fool and to think that she willingly followed.

She clenched her fist so hard her knuckles turned white.

X

She woke up to a loud thumping on the door. She was lying on her bed still wearing yesterday's clothes all crumpled from sleep. Her hair was disheveled some of the strands went loose from the braid. She was spent last night feeling mortified and enraged.

The knocking persisted.

She was halfway off the bed when she heard his voice.

"Michelle?"

She'd nearly forgotten about yesterday. She immediately stood up and quietly drew her military issued gun from the drawer.

"Michelle…" He grew impatient but she could tell that he wasn't leaving anytime soon.

She needed to put an end to this. She tucked the gun behind her on her hips and cracked open the door.

She saw Logan immediately, he was frantic. He put his hand between the small opening and pried it open. Michelle took two steps back her hands instinctively reaching for her gun. She fought her reaction drawing herself some composure.

Placing both of her hands on her side, she said, "Logan," with a lilt on her voice.

He took a step forward. "I was calling you since last night," his eyes were wild and pleading to her.

On the periphery of her vision she looked for her portscreen. 12 missed calls. All possibly coming from him. She mentally reminded herself to call security, just in case.

"I was busy, I didn't have time to check my calls."

Something small and rectangular beeped inside Logan's breast pocket. It blinked an orange light. He pulled a small glittery object and looked down on it.

"Liar."

What Michelle didn't know was that that object was the prototype of an implantable lie detector.

"What do you want Logan?" Her tone turned serious, she hoped it was threatening enough to make him go away.

"What did I do Michelle? Did I do something yesterday?" His voice was shaking, he stepped closer to her.

"Stopped where you are!" Michelle panicked. Suddenly, the gun was in her hands pointing it to his chest.

Logan drew back from her. "Michelle, calm down. Put the gun down, Michelle."

"What do you want?" She released the safety lock of the gun, held it with both hands to steady her aim, her military trainings suddenly kicking in her. "Are you here to sabotage our diplomatic mission?"

"What on Luna? Michelle-" he pleaded his case.

Her finger went inside the trigger guard.

"Michelle," he warned but he stayed rooted from where he was. His gaze was calculating, as if deciphering her next move.

Then suddenly, her hand didn't felt like hers anymore. It felt like a phantom limb that was strangely attached to her body. It lowered by itself.

She screamed and a shot echoed through the room.

Logan fell into his knees clutching his right arm. Blood was seeping through his sleeve. He withdrew his hand from the bloodied arm and stared at it in mortified fascination. It almost looked comical, a man specializing in Medicine afraid of blood. His own blood.

"What did you throw a loaded gun for?" He demanded.

Michelle's hands clapped on her mouth. A strained and muffled sound came through it. "I'msorry, I'msorry, I'msorry."

She regretted it the second it happened. She immediately went to his side and held his injured arm gingerly.

"I need to call a doctor," she dialed a number on her portscreen.

Logan snatched her wrist and cuffed his hand tightly around it. "Don't. The bullet just grazed the skin. Just get me some bandage and suture."

Michelle reluctantly stood up but she obeyed. When she emerged from the bathroom she was carrying a first aid kit that she found on the cabinets.

She laid its contents in front of him. Logan didn't say a word.

"I should call a doctor," Michelle casted a guilty look on his arm.

Logan ripped his sleeve. He tilted his head to one side to get a better view of the cut. He held a suture in between his fingers and pierced the needle on his skin. He flinched slightly. "And what? The next thing you know they're going to be asking what happened. Then the authorities will come and take you away. Michelle, do you want to be detained inside aLunar prison?"

She was chastised like a child. She kneeled beside him trying her best to undo the damage that she had done. She helped him secure a bandage around the wound.

Logan can see her rationalizing with herself when the lash of hurtful words came.

"You used your lunar powers on me," she accused him.

Logan rolled his eyes, "Really, Michelle? Is that the only thing that came through from all of this? That I am Lunar. There I said it. I-AM-A-LUNAR"

"You used your lunar powers on me."

He scoffed and buried a hand through his hair. That argument is invalid. "Oh please, I wouldn't call it powers, Michelle. Can we pick something from the words: talent or special skills?"

"Don't mess with me. Don't mess with my head."

"Listen. There are two things that are very obvious in here. One, is that I'm Lunar, and even though how much I deny that, it still stands since I was born and living in here, it is my birthright no matter how I despise that fact. I have no idea about you Earthens and your crazy notions against us but sometimes you really go overboard. This thing that we do, it's not magic, it is not power," he was exasperated but he continued on and held up two fingers. "Two is that you tried to kill me. I'm trying to put that on a lighter perspective, Michelle. Help me out in here. How can I convince you that I am not some evil mercenary the King has sent to spy on you."

"How do I know that you're not just controlling me to believe your lies?"

"Just trust me," he said simply.

"Ha! That's big!" She burst. "That is big. Coming from a Lunar!"

He just shrugged his shoulders. "Of all the person I know both from Luna and Earth. I thought you'd be at best to know the difference whether you're being manipulated or not. That's the thing most people mistake about our ability, it becomes hard for them to draw a line between what is real and what is not. There will come a point when they think that even the thing that is truly real to them is being controlled. That, for me, is the saddest part of it."

"A while ago," Michelle pondered. "That was the first time you used your glamour to me, right?"

"I don't know. Why don't you answer that for me?" He challenged her.

It was a rhetorical question Michelle already knew the answer to. "If you can control the mind. Can you also control the heart?"

He smiled goofily. He was half amused but he answered her seriously, "The heart is too intimate. It simply cannot be."

X

Thirteen years ago, Luna was falling. Dark plumes of smoke covered the sky. It rained hard with sleet but the water was not enough to extinguish the fires. The streets were silent just like the way it does after a killing.

In the middle of the colony, the only remains of the Lunar Palace were ashes and rubbles. Its glass dome collapsed into a million shards on the ground.

Logan rushed into his home miles from the chaos. He flung the front door in haste and found Michelle standing in the living room. He slowed his breaths for the first time since he left the city. He laid a shaky hand on the door knob.

Michelle was still as a statue watching the holographic projection of the rebellion. Her dark silhouette was alighted on the edges withthe light expanding outward into a four paneled image that occupied almost half of the wall of the living room.

It was playing a live broadcast in the city center and clips of aerial view above the Lunar Palace. The place was all deserted now but the reporter and her crew. But the aftermath of the uprising can be seen everywhere. A trodden shoe lay torn on the ground, a smear of blood was on the pavement with an eerie outline of a person's body. Earlier the King's army barricaded the palace walls along with rows of thaumaturges, all in their pristine uniforms and in their sharpest of minds. But no amount of bioelectrical manipulation nor military powercan withstand the upheaval of hundreds of lunar citizens. When both of the sides clashed, the video turned into a jumble of static. The image refocused back on the newscaster.

The volume was turned down to mute so the silence from outside was carried on to the house.

Logan steeled himself and begged for calmness as he stepped towards Michelle. He put his hands above Michelle's shoulders. Michelle laid her hand on top of his. Michelle's eyes were grim and serious. Logan knew he needed to get her back to Earth, to safety.

"You could come and live with us in Rieux," she began. "With me and your son. You can meet your granddaughter."

In the past years, Michelle had aged beautifully. Logan laid a tender kiss on her forehead his red scarlet hair rusting on her eyes. He didn't want her to know how much danger he would be putting her through.

With feet unsteady, he headed to his home office and brought out legal documents from the top drawer of his desk, their marriage certificate that was still pending for approval on the Lunar Registry. On the other side of his office he ruffled inside another drawer bringing out what looks to be like a birth certificate with an Earthen insignia with it comes a small ziplock bag containing an ID chip, scalpel and a small bandage for staunching a thin wound.

He stuffed all the papers into a file folder and put it down beside him on the floor. His eyes were blank, tired from weeks, —months of lack of sleep. He massaged the bridge of his nose shaking off the beginnings of a nervous attack.

He looked up to the doorway and saw Michelle standing there her forehead was creased with worry. One look from her and Logan knew she understood. Suddenly, his world felt better.

They didn't pack any belongings from their house. When they were outside Logan's hover was waiting for them with the engines still left on. Once inside he typed in the coordinates for the nearest shuttle. The scenery zipped past soon the blur of the cityscape came into view.

They were just outside the city limits. Michelle noticed that there were only few civilian hovers flying over the area. Some were med hovers but they speedily shot past them and went inside the maze of buildings to the center of the city.

Logan's portscreen beeped. He looked at the caller ID, the lines on his jaw deepened. He pressed answer and put the portscreen on his ear unsurely.

The conversation was hush. Sitting on the passenger seat, Michelle felt distant from Logan. She can only hear faint whispers and she was glad because there's this sinking feeling that whatever is Logan talking about it wasn't meant for her to hear.

When the conversation was over, Logan put his portscreen down. He squared his shoulders and grabbed both sides of the steering wheel. The autopilot screen turned off. A feminine metallic voice resounded from the dashboard: 'Initiating Manual Control'

Michelle jerked from her seat. "Logan."

"We're taking another shuttle," Logan told her, staring directly through the windshield.

Michelle felt the hover veering on its side. She watched from the window as they picked up more speed. The hover abruptly turned right barely dodging the side of a skyscraper.

Within minutes they were in front of Luna's research building. Logan pulled her from the passenger side of the door. With hurried steps they went inside the building. He was tugging her harshly barely keeping in step with him. She stared at his back to the arm that was outstretched towards her gripping her hands tightly. They passed down halls and corridors. Logan didn't even spare a second look when they ran pass his lab. Then they were descending towards an underground level. Their footsteps clang on the metal stairs. The air turned cold and chilly it scraped the sides of her throat. She was rasping for air when they reached the bottom.

Michelle had to firmly plant her feet on the floor to break her speed. She stumbled on Logan's back. She felt his hands secured themselves on her waist.

They were both staring at the ship before them. It was invisible. The only proof that it was there were its distorted outlines emitting magnetic energy as the ship powers up. Part of the left wing was flickering on and off, its metallic exterior alternating to that of the transparent reflection of the hangar.

From the expanse of the floor to the three side walls, the space looked empty. The other wall was open where the nose of the ship was pointed showing the launching ramp, waiting for the ship's take off.

A man Michelle didn't recognize was waving at them. She was still catching her breath when they were moving again.

"I'm glad that you made it, Doctor," the man seized Logan's hand in a tight handshake. The man has light green eyes behind his glasses, which is unusual since Lunars don't need corrective lenses, they have perfect vision. "The operation is already ongoing. The OR is on the second level of the ship." He gestured the way with his hand.

Logan made to move on that direction. Michelle got drag behind him. He had forgotten that he was gripping Michelle's hand, so much so that every move that he makes Michelle is always part of it.

Logan gulped. He knew that Michelle was not allowed inside the operating room.

"I'll escort the Madame to your quarters, Doctor," the man offered.

They're going to be separated. Logan panicked. It will only be just for a while but he cannot stand the idea of being away from her.

Michelle's hand slackened inside his. She understood. For the first time since they left the house, she noticed that their closed hands were cold and sweaty. Michelle ran her thumb smoothly over Logan's knuckles. It was shaking.

He tugged her fingers for the last time and placed a quick kiss on her forehead.

Logan gave a stern look to the man then Michelle got lead away.

X

The ship's corridors were empty. But there was this underlying feeling that on the inside of every room in this spaceship everyone was busy.

These people, they were the ones who incited the rebellion. And whether that put her and them on the same side, she has no idea. The priority now was to escape Luna.

She was relieved when she saw Logan turning on the corner. But to her dismay Logan looked even more depressed and grim the last time she saw him.

His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. He trod with his feet barely lifting up from the floor.

Logan stopped on his tracks when he saw Michelle. He remembered his conversation after the operation. The task that they had given upon him was too dangerous. They'd barely dodge the King's wrath during the siege. And now they were fugitives, harboring a presumed dead, heir to the Lunar throne princess.

His thoughts went back to the little thing. Her small dainty chubby cheeks and lush brown hair. She's just two years younger than his own granddaughter. He always had a soft spot for children.

But seeing almost half of her body charred and her limbs mangled. He didn't think that they could save her or keep her alive.

In the end, all was well. She's as much as what this revolution strived for. They needed to hide her safely until the time is just right. And that was next to impossible under the eyes of the other lineage of the throne. They will hunt her down and kill her when they found out.

He couldn't, wouldn't drag Michelle down with this burden. Although a peaceful life is what he wanted the most, the future seemed faint if he thought about it now. And suddenly, all that he planned for them began to slip away.

He kept to a distance from her. But it's too late to detach her from this. She was already embroiled in this plan in many ways he haven't thought of.

Taking in a sharp breath, he tried to subdue his shaking hands. It must have been obvious though.

"ALL PILOTS RETURN TO YOUR STATIONS IMMEDIATELY. PREPARE FOR TAKE OFF."

It was the commander's voice booming from the speaker.

ALL PILOTS RETURN TO YOUR STATIONS IMMEDIATELY. PREPARE FOR TAKE OFF.

Finally, he can afford a little bit of relief. The shuttle began to levitate. The magnetic equalizer started to hum from the engine room. Soon they were airborne. Bright lights flooded the view deck.

Logan gripped the side railing to steady himself as the ship shook passing a rocky turbulence as they break through Luna's atmosphere.

He stared blankly through the ship's view deck. The shimmer of Luna's skyline slowly becoming faint on his wild troubled eyes.

Michelle's heart constricted. The man that was standing before her was no more. She clasped both of her hands just like when she would pray, her lips were pressed hard kissing the sides of her index finger, praying desperately for them to find a way, for Logan to be okay. She gritted her teeth and shut her eyes so badly it began to sting.

When she opened her eyes, there was this strange lightness that so was out-of-place. They have finally escaped Luna's gravity. They were now floating mid-space. Her feet levitated a few inches above the ship's floor. She looked at Logan, his form stood in stark contrast against the backdrop of space. He stood there unmoving like a statue crumbling from the inside.

She floated towards him and bumped on his side. He gave her a strangled smile. She held his face on her hand so that she could anchor him in there and he won't get lost.

"I want to help," she heard herself say.

He closed his eyes and for a while he looked serene. He nodded, his eyebrows crunching together.

She smoothed his hair and he leaned tired on her shoulders.

Michelle cradled his head and she stared at the vast vacuum of the space. She was afraid but her resolve was more definite than her fears.

She wove her fingers softly in between his hair. She began humming a song, her voice was sedating the way the world turns quiet right when he was about to fall asleep. He sighed on her neck and kissed her on her cheek, the short stubble of his beard pricking her skin. She held him tighter as they float aimlessly in space, her voice slowly filling the crevices between the cracks that formed in him.

_Hold me close and hold me fast_

_The magic spell you cast_

_This is la vie en rose_

_When you kiss me heaven sighs_

_And though I close my eyes_

_I see la vie en rose_

_When you press me to your heart…_

x

…_I'm in a world apart_

_A world where roses bloom_

The worldcaught up on her, fast. Her body rocked back and forth, the train's inertia pushing her towards Wolf. Scarlet opened her eyes on a dreamy state. Every nerve ending was burning beneath her skin. Had she fallen asleep? No. She didn't. Her lips were moving and every time they met and parted it tingled with numbness and yet she could feel every millimeter of her lips magnified on its senses.

_And when you speak_

_Angels sing from above_

_Everyday words seems_

_To turn into love song…_

Wolf rested his head on Scarlet's shoulder. "Scarlet, what is that song you're singing?"

Scarlet stopped in the middle of a breath. Her eyes focused on the wooden floorboards, the inside of the boxcar was dark and the cold air was encroaching. She met Wolf's eyes startlingly bright on his eyesockets. His face was etched with concern.

"It's a song from a memory long time ago," it was strange feeling those words pass her lips. "Five years back, actually."

Wolf must've sensed something amiss. He wrapped his arm on her shoulders and the other in front of her waist in an awkward side hug position. Scarlet fought the urge to shrug it off. It didn't feel right being in that circumference. She sat there with all the warmth oozing around her but refusing it to pervade her.

Wolf's hug tightened and coiled in around her. He kissed her on the neck and whispered soothing things, his whiskers tickling the tip of her earlobe.

She was tired. And she surmised Wolf was also. The way his head hang on her shoulders and his lips carelessly tilted on the crook of her neck.

Scarlet ran her fingers in his messy ashen-gray hair, Wolf crinkled his eyes. She moved to take off her red jacket, bunched it all up in a ball and placed it on her lap. She guided Wolf's head on her lap tired eyes blinking sleepily to her. Wolf crouched and laid his head on her lap nuzzling on the fabric, the back of his head rubbing on Scarlet's stomach. Her hands followed, caressing his hair, combing it away from his face but some of the strands keep on falling.

_Give your heart and soul to me_

_Our love will always be…_

She stayed up a few more minutes tracing Wolf's faint scars on his arms, neck and face. Fingers feather-light above his skin.

Wolf opened his eyes. His bright orbs clear with intent. "Scar?" he said his voice cracking. "Goodnight," he whispered.

Scarlet's hands drew away for a moment. Wolf felt his chest collapsing in his ribs but was quelled when Scarlet replaced her hands atop right away. "Goodnight, Wolf," she whispered back.

La Vie En Rose_._

End

Author's Notes:

Okay, hello again. How was it? Was it too long? Was it too short? Do I need to write more? More of Scarlet and Wolf, perhaps. But let me explain why I wrote what I wrote first.

Originally, this was supposed to be just one chapter. The chapter 1 connecting to the song on the last part on the train with Scarlet and Wolf. But then it evolved into this whole backstory (and in my head there's another back of this backstory). And I needed something to connect Logan and Wolf. Like there was this loose thread on both of them and I need to tie it them together. And that's where the extra 10 or so pages came from. Haha.

Another thing is that, I tried to draw parallels between Michelle and Logan to Scarlet and Wolf. I know the parallels aren't that straight, but I hope even at the slightest I came close or near it. Ugh, I failed I know.

And sorry this came in so very very late! I am trying to write something. And I'm backing on my principle that I need to finish at least one story or chapter before uploading a completed one. But I need to post this one now or I won't be able to post it ever. Haha.

Thanks for putting up with me. I have too many excuses, I know.

Don't forget to review by the way. You can write anything, I still accept flames after all these years. Just review! I need to hear from you guys.

And oh, before I forget. Something from Cinder and Kai is coming up next.

-esp :D


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